


About

by yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M, Sibling Incest, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-11-30 17:52:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11468640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Elrohir’s a tad nervous before they tell.





	About

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MissManiac](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissManiac/gifts).



> A/N: Fill for MissManiac’s “"26. Mine" with Elladan/Elrohir. The princes belong to each other and nobody else, they have always known that. On the day of their coming-of-age ceremony (whenever that is with Elves), they will announce that to all of Rivendell. They could be nervous and Legolas could be all reassuring and supportive of his friends and Arwen could tease them in return for all she has to endure about liking a certain ward of their father's” request on [my tumblr](http://yeaka.tumblr.com/) [from this list](http://yeaka.tumblr.com/post/162565904960/prompt-list-3). (But modified because it was long/detailed.)
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Lord of the Rings or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

In the corridor behind the reception hall, Elrohir finds one last excuse to delay their entry—he catches Elladan by the sleeve and pulls him to a halt. Elladan glances back, wearing the same subtle frown on his lips that Elrohir does. It isn’t really that he’s _worried_ —he knows they’ll be accepted—but this is still a large occasion, and when they’d first made their plans, they didn’t know the Woodland Realm’s delegation would be there for it, or that everyone from Galdor to Bilbo would be in attendance. Elladan’s eyes bore into his, and they seem to say: _it will be alright._

Elrohir nods at the silent reassurance. Then he trails his fingers along his brother’s braid, tugging it down to fuss over. A few stray strands of dark hair have fallen loose, and Elrohir busies himself meticulously tucking them back into place. He wove this braid himself, but he was distracted at the time, as they did one another’s hair in bed before their robes were on. A few of the gleaming gems poked into the folds haven gone askew. Elrohir fixes each of these, while Elladan reaches over to return the favour. 

Even as Elrohir’s still fussing, the curtain into the hall wavers, and Arwen ducks beneath, looking just as put together in her silver gown and glittering circlet. She gives them a startled look, as though expecting them to be off somewhere avoiding their duties all together, and then she places her slender hands atop her hips. She asks, “What ever is taking you so long? Everyone is waiting.” As though they didn’t know.

Elrohir just murmurs, “Sorry,” and doesn’t betray his nerves. It’s ridiculous to have them now—he’s fought orcs and wargs and should surely be able to handle his own coming-of-age ceremony. It should be easier to step out into the hall with his twin brother’s hand in his. Except that their speech won’t be like any other, and though it will change nothing for _them_ , he knows it might change how others view them. They’ve always been together. They’ve always been _one_ , and Elrohir can’t remember ever _not_ loving Elladan. But somehow, it seems few others have seen it, and today’s the day to say so: they’re both tired of skulking in the shadows. 

Arwen gives them a funny look, clearly awaiting an explanation, and Elrohir gives up on Elladan’s hair to tug at his collar instead. It isn’t quite as stiff as it should be. Which means his own is probably the same. 

Arwen opens her mouth, but the curtain rustles again, and then Legolas is joining them. Elrohir gives him an automatic smile, though a little tense. Legolas eyes them both, seems to understand, and still tells them, “You must come soon—my father is growing impatient, and you had best make your speech _before_ he has over-indulged in wine.”

Elladan snorts, “I assumed he had shown up that way.”

Legolas dons a wry grin but declines the bait. He says instead, softly and fondly, “It will be alright. I told you that.”

“What will?” Arwen asks, looking now between the three, but Legolas doesn’t betray their secret. As far as Elrohir knows, he never has. He’s been a good friend, and for that, Elrohir gives a grateful nod.

He turns finally to Elladan, looks deep into Elladan’s eyes, so close to his own, and all the comfort returns to him. Elladan’s hand slips securely into his, squeezing lightly: all Elrohir ever needs. He tells Arwen without looking, “Let us just say that after tonight, neither of us will be able to tease you any longer regarding a certain ward.”

In his peripherals, Elrohir can see Arwen lift a brow. But they’ve moved on from her, ready now, and Legolas holds the curtain open for them. They step out together, the truth finally on their tongues.


End file.
